Esther G. Friedman

She was the first to charm, never sad
Was a talking, walking baby ad
Nothing to hide and honest to a fault
She was like a graceful gymnast sticking a fault
If only for a second her words would halt

There was nothing to fake.

In first grade, she was the first chosen, so fine
She threw the ball in a way that made the others pine
But when the random letters tended to stall
No one noticed because she knew when to creep down the hall

She felt a twinge but faked it.

In second, she was tall and cute
She even played the flute
When reading, the words were now coming out only okay
(which was strange in her kind of way)
But she sometimes said it right, which made it easy to look away

She felt anxious, but she faked it.

In third, the world was hers
but those words were now thorns and burs
They didn't follow her rules
Like her friends who chose to be fools

She felt dumb, but she faked it.

But the time fourth grade hailed
And the book reports that reigned were supposed to be nailed
She was still the craze
But life felt like such a haze
As she had to magically transform those pages
To look like she was not one of those cases

She felt like a fake...and that's why she couldn't fake it anymore!

SO SHE GAVE UP.